When you were born, what do you think your mother’s wishes were for you? I’m not so sure my mother’s wishes were for me to be so honest, but nonetheless, I am the product of her wishes (hopefully) in some way shape or form. And so are you – all of you that are as charming, sophisticated and charismatic as moi that is!
Now let’s not forget those people that you want to forget - you know those people that you avoid in the streets (don’t you dare pretend you haven’t!). I’m sure that their mothers didn’t wish for them to be social outcasts (unless they have warped senses of humour). Then there are those people you meet who are so off the scales (you know the ones that you say white to and they immediately say black to piss you off). I used to think what were their mothers thinking when they were just babies? I can’t even contemplate that there are mothers out there that would wish for their offspring to piss as many people off as possible in their pursuit of life. That was until I was proven wrong - I met my partner.
Let me be completely upfront – his mother (my mother-in-law) did not wish for him to piss people off – she just wanted him to do as he was told. Period. And he did exactly the opposite to piss her off. Period. Oh the joys of family.
So his next pursuit in life has officially turned me into a ‘widow’. Before you send your sympathy notes, please hear me out. My ‘widow’ status has nothing to do with my loss in a technical sense – more of a ‘play on words’. He is just not around anymore. Haven’t seen him for days. Okay, so that’s a slight stretch of the truth, but pretty much everyday he has to do this thing that takes up most of his spare time. It’s been driving me crazy for a very long time and on reflection (okay so after a few glasses of bubbly) I have come to the conclusion that he is addicted and I’m officially a ‘widow’. AND my mother-in-law was right - how many of us can say that?
He hasn’t dumped me for a younger version (he wouldn’t dare) and I haven’t sent him outback for some space – although some days the thought of that suits me just fine (never said I was perfect!). First it was rugby, then it was cricket (mixed in with poker but thank goodness that was just a short lived fling). Then it was mountain climbing and now it’s running. Yes, I’m an ‘exercise widow’ and for most days it pretty much sucks. Like a Dyson. I was only self classified as an ‘exercise widow’ a week or two ago, when he made another announcement which went something like – “are you still okay to help with the food stops for the Oxfam thing?”
I heard him talk about the Oxfam charity race he entered with 3 other guys a month or two ago, covering 100 kilometres from Central Coast NSW to Sydney. Apparently, when I wasn’t listening, I actually offered (don’t ask what the hell I was thinking) to help with food stops. Seemingly (my mother-in-law loves this word) depending on how fast (or slow) the group is going, the food stops could be as early as 2am or as late as 11pm. So it’s official - karma has come and bit me right on the arse for doing that man thing called ‘selective hearing’. Not only do I have a 20 something hour time period coming up where I am going to miss my beauty sleep (forget that he has to trek through dense bush land and hilly trails no matter what the weather conditions – it’s all about me remember!), I have to provide warm food to the team at the right spot (and with my sense of direction –heck!!!!).
Being relied upon by him to provide warm nutritious food is somewhat hilarious considering that when we moved in together it timed with his university exams and he didn’t want me to cook for him in case he got sick. For the record, I haven’t killed anyone yet with my cooking. So how things have changed - from ‘almost’ being accused of cooking lethal foods to being asked to put something together like soup and stuff to help keep him and the team nourished for 20 plus hours.
So it goes without saying that I am one tolerable gal (if I do say so myself!), but I can’t let this venture of his go unnoticed – that’s the optimistic in me. Not only have these guys trained hard (from marathons to iron man competitions and 100’s of kilometres training per week), if I have to have interrupted sleep then it has to be for a damn good reason – hell it’s a long time before I have the money saved for my nip and tuck you know! Therefore, if you feel for my situation (boo hoo) AND have any spare cash, please donate via http://www2.oxfam.org.au/trailwalker/Sydney/team/257. The funds will help needy children all over the world and also, it will make the noise of my alarm going off at some ungodly hour on Friday 27 August a little easier to bear. Tx
Dedicated to the lovely Sheila – a mother who really did know everything! RIP…
